


Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

by calendarpages



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calendarpages/pseuds/calendarpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Love is like a good cake; you never know when it's coming, but you'd better eat it when it does!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

Blaine Anderson signs up for Kurt Hummel's Cooking and Baking Class on a whim, figuring that being able to whip up something respectable could be useful in the future, possibly in the wooing of cute boys who like to be romanced. That and the fact that his roommates Wes and David would probably worship him if he ever brought home leftovers, makes signing up an easy decision. Plus the flyer said only thirty bucks a class, and his trust fund wasn't running out anytime soon, so he might as well reap its benefits.

Blaine showed up for the first class not expecting much. He pictures Kurt Hummel as a middle aged man, fat from a lifetime of eating his own delicious creations or possibly a cooking school drop out who doesn't actually know what he's doing and will, no doubt, be hilarious to watch flounder. About five minutes after the class is due to start, a tall man wearing a white apron over  _sinfully_  tight skinny jeans strides in like he owns the place and scrawls his name in big looping letters across the chalk board at the front of the room.

_This_  is Mr. Hummel?

Kurt Hummel looks to be about Blaine's age, a college student maybe, judging from the hefty messenger bag he deposited by the door on his way in that is no doubt stuffed with books. His silhouette is _unbelievable_ , all long slender legs and strong, broad shoulders.

Blaine's mind provides a hideously inappropriate mental image of Kurt pressing him into a wall with those sculpted arms, muscles rippling beneath soft pale skin.

Blaine swallows uncomfortably.

Up at the front of the classroom, Kurt introduces himself with a little smile, quickly launching into a detailed description of what he has planned for the day, and what could be expected from future classes. He is eloquent and succinct with his words and Blaine has never been so moved by the reading of a list of required cooking utensils in his life. It turns out that this class has been more of an introduction than anything, for which Blaine is extremely grateful seeing as in his current state he doubts he could be trusted with anything sharp or allowed within proximity of a flame without hurting himself.

At the end of the half hour class, Blaine walks out onto the street in a lovestruck daze.

He stands in the middle of the New York sidewalk and lets out a loud, hysterical giggle, bouncing a little on his toes and grinning like a maniac. Overhead, the promise of snow clumps in the form of large, angry looking clouds and Blaine beams up at them, sticking out his tongue like a child to catch the first flakes as they begin to fall.

He dances his way back to his apartment, twirling around in the softly falling snow and earning more than a few strange looks from passing New Yorkers. Bursting into his flat, his roommates barely blink an eye as Blaine floats through the living room and flops down onto the couch, a dopey smile still plastered on his face. The room is silent, Blaine content to stare dreamily into the distance while Wes and David have a silent conversation with their eyes, consisting partly of comically raised eyebrows and questioning gestures in Blaine's direction.

Finally, David breaks the silence. "Blaine, should we be worried?"

It seems to take Blaine a couple of seconds to work out the meaning of the question but eventually he turns to David, still smiling that same dazed smile.

"No, I'm fine. Better than fine. I'm fantastic," breaths Blaine, rolling so that he's on his back and clutching a couch pillow to his chest.

Wes isn't convinced. "Are you sure, you seem kind of out of it?"

Blaine shakes his head fervently, not stopping smiling for a second, and scrunching his nose in a way that Wes supposes could be considered kind of adorable.

David catches on first.

"Wait, Wes, oh god," he chokes out, clutching at his friend's arm and shooting Blaine an incredulous look.

"What is it now?" asks Wes as he prizes David's fingers from his bicep.

David's eyes grow large as they flicker to Blaine's face and then back to Wes'.

"Blaine is in love."

Wes blinks. "No, no way."

"He is! I can see it in his face, its just like with Jeremiah only worse."

Wes looks appalled, "Worse?"

"Oh totally, with Jeremiah it took a while," says David, smirking a little, "with this guy, it was instantaneous. Love at first sight, I'm impressed."

Blaine still hasn't said anything, but now he looks deep in thought, his brow furrowed and shoulders tense.

"This is bad, he's going to ask us to serenade someone in their place of work again isn't he?" murmurs Wes, looking truly horrified at the prospect.

David shakes his head. "Nope, he's learned. Haven't you buddy?" he asks, addressing Blaine himself.

"Learned, yea learned," parrots Blaine absentmindedly.

"Wow he is whipped," remarks Wes with a low whistle.

David smirks, "God, wait until they actually get together, that'll be spectacular."

"Truly," agrees Wes, raising an eyebrow, "so what now?"

"What do you mean what now?"

Wes shoots David a disbelieving look. "I mean are we going to help him win his beloved's heart or not?"

"You bet we are!"

* * *

Blaine returns to cooking class the following week armed with enough flirting tactics to seduce a small country of gay men, including proper body language and pickup lines, although Blaine hardly thinks that Kurt is a pickup line type of guy.

Kurt flounces into the classroom five minutes after it is scheduled to start, just as he had the week before, and delivers a similar speech to the one he'd given at the start of the last class, introducing himself and outlining the plan for the day. Apparently they'd be starting off simple with cupcakes, and wasn't it Blaine's lucky day because he and his mother used to bake cupcakes all the time so he could practically do it in his sleep. That meant he'd be able to devote more of his attention to Kurt and less to the baking. Joy.

Each person's station is equipped with all of the dry ingredients required for either chocolate or vanilla cupcakes, as well as an electric mixer and every manner of cooking utensil imaginable. Kurt gestures to a large stainless steel fridge in the far corner of the room and tells the class that pre-measured quantities of the wet ingredients are located on the top shelf of the fridge, and that they are to help themselves when necessary. Then, with a last (very attractive) flourish, Kurt turns the class out and declares that he will be walking around to check on their progress.

Blaine leaps into action, carefully measuring out each dry ingredient and dumping them into a large bowl. Then, using the folding technique his mom had taught him, he blends the ingredients together so that the mixture is even throughout. Glancing around, Blaine notes proudly that most of the other students are still fumbling with their measuring cups, looking immensely confused.

Kurt is standing two tables to Blaine's left, leaning over to explain to some woman how to use her electric mixer, and Blaine has to stop for a minute just to admire the view. Kurt's ass is perfect and round in another pair of ridiculous skinny jeans and Blaine has to force himself to return to his cupcakes for fear that he bypass his plan and simply tackle Kurt right then and there.

The addition of the wet ingredients is simple and before long, he has spooned his batter into one of the cupcake pans (already prepared with liners, Blaine notes appreciatively) and is waiting patiently for Kurt to approve his batch before he's allowed to put them in the oven.

Just to the left of where Blaine is sitting, Kurt finishes explaining why one does not mix dry ingredients with an electric mixer to an astonished looking flour covered man. With an adorable little sigh, Kurt turns towards Blaine and their eyes meet, sending pleasant shivers down Blaine's spine. Kurt's eyes are a cool greenish blue, and yet they hold a familiar warmth that makes Blaine's insides flutter and his mouth pull up into an involuntary smile. Kurt looks surprised, but he smiles back, all toothless and beautiful and it is all Blaine can do to prevent himself from swooning.

"Hey there," greets Kurt brightly, "and your name is?"

Blaine suddenly has a lot of trouble getting his mouth to form words. "Bl-laine, Blaine Anderson," he stutters, offering Kurt an embarrassed smile.

"Kurt Hummel, pleased to meet you," says Kurt and extends his hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine takes the hand almost reverently, marveling at the silky skin and firm, masculine grip.

If Kurt is put off at all by Blaine's awed expression, it doesn't show.

"I see you've actually managed to put together something resembling cupcake batter, I'm impressed."

Blaine beams, "My mom taught me how to bake cupcakes when I was a kid so it was kind of a no brainer."

Kurt raises an eyebrow, "Well, for your mom's sake, I sure hope these are edible."

And with that he's gone, turning with what Blaine hopes is a flirty wave, and trotting off to examine an abandoned work station that is mysteriously covered with egg yolk.

Blaine exhales shakily, running a hand through his curls. Witty and gorgeous, Kurt Hummel certainly is quite a guy.

Once the cupcakes are in the oven and Blaine has tidied his workspace to the best of his ability, he resolves to strike up another conversation with Kurt, who is leaning nonchalantly up against one of the counters that line the back wall of the classroom. Sidling up to him, Blaine puts on his best charming smile and coughs a little under his breath.

Kurt tilts his head to face Blaine and smiles, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Blaine, hi, I was just about to go find you. It seems you're the only one who's succeeded in producing cupcakes worthy of the oven and I wanted to congratulate you."

Flirting, now is the time for flirting. "Well, I did have a very good teacher."

Kurt blushes and Blaine cheers internally, "Oh stop it you. I was too busy making sure nobody blew anything up to do any actual teaching."

"I beg to differ," quipped Blaine, "like you said, my cupcakes turned out fine."

"We won't know for sure until we've tasted them though," counters Kurt playfully. "Who knows? You might've tried something fancy and they could end up tasting like horse crap."

Blaine snorts at that, "I doubt it." Suddenly, an idea occurs. "How did you end up teaching a Sunday evening cooking class anyway? I mean, you're a college student right?"

Kurt nods, "Yea I'm at FIT, I'm teaching this class to bring in some money on the side. Am I right in assuming that you're a college student as well?"

"I'm in my second year at NYU," says Blaine in reply.

"NYU, let me guess, a film major."

Blaine laughs loudly and Kurt shoots him an indignant look, "You're the second person who's said that, do I just scream film major or something?"

"It's the clothes, they're very hipster chic. It just makes me think film maker for some reason."

"Hipster chic, good thing or bad thing Mr. FIT?"

"Good thing, on you at least, the cardigans work, but don't tell my professors I said that."

The conversation flows naturally, just as Blaine had hoped it would, and after what seems like mere minutes (but was really more like a half hour) the timer on the oven interrupts their chatting and Kurt shoots Blaine a sly glance.

"Moment of truth," he chirps, looking altogether too angelic for someone who has been teasing Blaine ruthlessly since the first words they exchanged.

Blaine batts Kurt's arm playfully (savoring the contact) and saunters over to the oven, trying his best to sway his hips in a way that should be appealing while not appearing too cartoonish. Hopefully Kurt is an ass man, because Blaine has been told on numerous occasions that he was blessed with a nice ass.

The cupcakes look perfect as Blaine pulls them out of the oven, and he is pleasantly surprised by their apparent success. Gingerly, trying to work his fingers around the paper without burning himself, Blaine plucks one of the cupcakes from the pan and examines it more closely. Still passing all checks with flying colors.

Blaine beams triumphantly and beckons Kurt over.

"They are a work of art, my dear," coos Kurt, and Blaine has to bite his lip to stop from blushing ridiculously at the pet name.

In one swift movement, Kurt strips the cupcake of its liner and takes a small nibble, moving the bite around in his mouth as if to properly judge its flavor.

Kurt's eyes go wide, "Oh my god."

"What?" chokes Blaine.

Kurt takes another bite, bigger this time, and the resulting moan is so obscene that Blaine has to steady himself on the counter.

Kurt's eyes roll back in his head and he groans again, tearing off little pieces of cupcake and dropping them into his open mouth. Blaine watches, entranced, as Kurt devours the rest of the treat, moaning and sighing his way through the experience like some sort of French whore. When Kurt finishes, licking his lips free of crumbs, Blaine is left with the feeling of being thoroughly debauched.

"That was orgasmic," purrs Kurt and Blaine can only find it in himself to nod feebly.

Only now does Blaine notice that the classroom is empty apart from the two of them, the other students must have left after their attempts at cupcakes failed so miserably. Kurt has busied himself with tidying up, and Blaine follows him with his eyes as he flits from works station to work station, mopping up the mess of eggs and flour.

"What are you looking at pretty boy?" Kurt asks with a smirk and Blaine finally  _gets it_.

In two long strides he is in right in front of Kurt, crowding into his personal space and feeling the tension crackle like a rapidly tightening band around his lungs. Kurt has stopped cleaning and is leaning back against the table, slouching a little so that he's looking up at Blaine through his lashes. He looks so effortlessly beautiful like this, with his cheeks painted pink and a little smudge of flour by his ear, that Blaine's breath hitches in his throat and his hands tingle by his sides, aching to reach out and touch. They are so close, their noses no more than an inch apart, and Blaine knows that one tiny movement could bring their lips crashing together. One movement, and Blaine could finally taste what he's been craving, and claim it as his own. The temptation is maddening, but Blaine has promised that he'd do this right.

"Go out with me," he breathes, reaching out a shaking finger to hook under Kurt's chin and raise his head so that their eyes can meet.

"What?" Kurt asks, his voice is soft and imbued with a kind of  _awe_ that takesBlaine by surprise.

"Go out with me," he repeats, stronger this time.

Blaine isn't sure if Kurt looks shocked or delighted.

"Sure," Kurt whispers, nodding minutely.

Blaine doesn't know who moves first but all of a sudden Kurt is flinging his arms around Blaine's shoulders and pulling him into what has to be the most charged kiss Blaine has ever experienced. Everything is lips and tongue and teeth, and somewhere amongst it all Kurt has managed to push himself up so that he's seated on the table, giving him height and leverage to deepen the kiss even further. Kurt's hands move to the back of Blaine's head, running his nails gently over the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck and making Blaine gasp lightly against Kurt's lips. Fisting his hands in Kurt's shirt, Blaine yanks Kurt into another heated kiss, pressing their lips together over and over until Blaine has to come up for air, panting weakly and resting his forehead on Kurt's shoulder.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I set eyes on you," murmurs Kurt between breaths, running his hands up and down Blaine's back.

Instead of responding, Blaine kisses Kurt again, deep and passionate, pouring all of his own emotions into it, as if a kiss could make Kurt understand how much he wants this to work, to be more than just a hookup.

They sit there for a few more minutes, basking in the contact and feeling of their bodies intertwined. When they separate, Kurt scurries over to his bag and pulls out a pen and a scrap of paper, messily scrawling out his number before pressing it into Blaine's palm like a promise.

"Call me," he whispers, pressing another lingering kiss to Blaine's lips and walking him over to the door to the classroom and out onto the street. With a final kiss pressed gently to the skin of Blaine's jaw, Kurt turns on his heel and shuts the door to the classroom in Blaine's face.

Exhaling shakily, Blaine rubs a hand over his face and through his curls, eyes blinking wide and owlish in the light of a street lamp. Glancing down at the note still clutched in his hand, Blaine carefully unfolds the sheet of paper and reads the words written there in a familiar slanted script.

_490-2371_

_I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece._

_I'm complete._

_\- Kurt Hummel_

_ ♥ _

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Klaine Week over on tumblr, for the prompt Klaine AU.  
> This has been cleaned up and moved from fanfiction.net.


End file.
